Sins of the father
by Jay Levon
Summary: Clarence is an old man who has all but given up on life, only to find out he has one more fight left in him. My first short story. Please leave feedback.


SINS OF THE FATHER-

Clarence drained the last foamy gulp of beer from his mug and motioned for Sharon, the barmaid, to bring him another. He watched as she deftly grabbed the mug, filled it from the tap with just the right amount of head, and placed it on a crinkled paper coaster in front of him. She smiled but never said a word. There was no reason to. He had been a regular here for three years and by now their relationship was almost telepathic.

Sharon liked Clarence. He was a sweet old man who always tipped and never said a cross word. He hardly ever spoke at all, just sat on the same stool every night except Sundays and drank beer after beer. He always paid his tab at last call and tottered out the door with the slow, unsure steps of a slightly drunk old man. She wasn't sure how old Clarence was, but he looked to be in his early seventies. It was strange she didn't know more about him. Most nights he was her only customer, but he seemed content to sit and drink his beer in silence, so Sharon left him alone, keeping an eye on his mug and refilling it when needed.

Sharon went back to stocking the beer coolers in preparation for a Friday night rush that would never come. This used to be a hopping, little place on the weekends. The saw millers would come in and drink away their paychecks, the pool tables were always busy, the jukebox never stopped playing, but that all changed when the mill shut down and left most of the men in town unemployed. Most folks moved away in search of greener pastures, and those that stayed couldn't afford to spend money in the local honkey tonk on the weekends. So the bar, like the town, is mostly lonely, empty except for a few regular drunks, and the occasional stragglers. Kids barely old enough to drink might stop in to play a game of pool and drink a beer before driving off into the night in search of something better to do.

There was a huge, nicotine stained mirror behind the bar, it had etchings on it of horses and lassoes and other related cowboy paraphernalia. Clarence was studying his reflection and not liking what he saw there. Old age is a bastard. It's a thief in the night that sneaks in out of nowhere and robs its victims of the vigor and vitality of youth. Clarence shook a lucky strike out of his pack and lit it with shaky, scarred hands.

"Would you believe I used to be young?"

Sharon stopped her chores and looked at Clarence surprised. She wasn't sure which was stranger, that Clarence was initiating a conversation or the way in which he chose to do it.

"I guess everybody is young once honey."

Clarence shook his head, not in disagreement, but like he was trying to shake loose a thought, or a word. He didn't have too many conversations anymore and was never very good at them anyway.

"I mean can you picture me as young?"

Sharon studied Clarence and tried to imagine him as a young man. He had broad features and pale, blue eyes. A chin and jaw line that were faded but looked like they could have been strong and square at one time, and though what was left of his hair was wispy and white, she could imagine it as once being dark and wavy.

"I bet you were a real lady killer in your younger days."

Clarence nearly blushes and takes a long pull from his mug to hide his embarrassment.

"I don't know about that, but I sure was strong. Started picking cotton with my momma when I was just knee high to a grasshopper. I weren't but fifteen when I went to work with daddy at the mill, he told 'em to give me the hardest job they had on account he believed the measure of a man is how hard they can work, and so they put me to loading ties on the railroad cars. Back then they didn't use a bunch of fancy machines. It was all sweat and muscle. That's the problem now days. Men don't have to work hard anymore. They got all these gadgets and robots and what not to do all their heavy lifting, but back in them days you would sling the ties up on your shoulders, carry them up a ramp and stack them in the railroad cars, and if you couldn't do it you were shit canned. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I got so strong I could carry two ties on each shoulder, only man who could carry that many at once."

Sharon watched Clarence's eyes blaze a little brighter with pride at this memory of his glory days. He robustly drained his half empty mug. She refilled it and studied his stooped shoulders and gnarled hands, and pretended she could almost see what he used to be.

"Did you always work at the mill?"

"Until daddy's accident."

"What happened if you don't mind me asking?"

"Don't mind at all, it was a long time ago. It's funny, when you get old you forget more than you remember, but there are some things you might like to forget, but can't seem to. Daddy dying is one of those things."

These last words caused Clarence to choke up a little, so he took a sip of beer to wash them down. Sharon reached across the bar and took one of his big hands in hers.

"Honey, it was rude of me to ask about your daddy like that. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm just a silly old man, you didn't upset me none."

Clarence shook out a cigarette and offered the pack to Sharon, who took one and waited while Clarence lit it for her. He studied her for a moment while they quietly inhaled and exhaled the sickly, sweet smoke. He noticed she was a pretty lady, young enough to be his daughter, maybe mid forties, it was hard for him to judge age anymore.

"Sharon, how come you ain't married?"

"Why Clarence you going to propose?"

Clarence let out a booming laugh that caught Sharon off guard. She had never heard the old man so much as chuckle and wasn't expecting such exuberance from him, but it was contagious, so they shared a good laugh until the joke wore off.

"Hell Clarence, I think I'm gonna have a beer with you!"

"Ain't nobody drink a beer with me in a long time. I would be honored."

Sharon poured herself a beer from the tap, clinked mugs with Clarence, and they both took a long drink.

"So, you asked me why I wasn't married."

"Didn't mean nothing by it. I never was too good a talker. It just seems like a good lady like you ought to have a fellow is all."

"Well, I was married. High school sweethearts, we were married for twenty-one years, but been divorced for seven."

"I'm real sorry to hear that."

"Hell, I should have divorced that son of a bitch long before I did!"

Clarence let out another burst of that robust laughter that Sharon was finding so contagious.

"I guess you said all there is to say about that."

"It wasn't all bad. I got a great kid out of it. I guess she's not a kid anymore; she's married to a good man and about to have a baby. They live in Dallas. I'm driving down there next month when the baby's due. Can't wait to be a grandma. What about you Clarence? You have any kids?"

"Nope. Never thought I'd be very good at it."

"Why do you say that?"

"I just think some men were meant to be alone."  
"That's a sad thing to say."

"Not sad, just truthful. My daddy was a mean drunk; his daddy was a mean drunk. My daddy beat on momma and me, and his daddy beat on him and my grandmamma. I had to be the one to end the cycle."

Sharon refilled their mugs while Clarence clumsily rose to his feet.

"You'll have to excuse me a minute. I have to use the restroom."

"Ok, but hurry back before I drink my beer and yours."

Clarence let out a chuckle and shuffled towards the men's room.

"Can't hurry at my age, you might break something."

Clarence heard Sharon say something, but he couldn't make it out. After closing and locking the door behind himself he stood at the urinal and fished out that wrinkled up slab of flesh that passed for his cock now days. Looking at it with resignation he waited for the stream to start.

"Ain't you a sorry thing? Takes forever for you to piss and you sure ain't good for nothing else, just like the rest of me I suppose."

As his stream finally started he read the writings on the wall. "Jimmy's a fag." "For a good time call Margaret Bowens." "Jesus is watching you." This last one struck him funny and he stood there chuckling to himself. When he finally finished he went to wash his hands and again caught his reflection in a mirror. He recognized the rheumy, watery, blood shot eyes; they were his daddy's eyes, the eyes of a drunk.

"Would you believe I used to be young?"

There was no answer from the reflection.

"You're losing it old man, talking to yourself in a public shitter. It won't be long now and you'll be drinking beer with daddy and the devil."

When Clarence shuffled out of the bathroom he saw that Sharon had a two new customers, two boys shooting a game of eight ball. One of the boys was a mountain of a man and Clarence couldn't take his eyes off him. He had to be seven feet tall, and looked to be muscle stacked on muscle, as wide as a pickup truck. The other one was a little guy. Clarence thought he looked like a snake, calm eyed but dangerous. Turn your back and he would bite you. He noticed they had stopped shooting pool and were staring back at him, so he averted his eyes and quickened his step, as much as he could quicken his step anyway. Sitting on his stool he took a long nervous pull from his mug. Sharon could see the uneasiness etched on his face.

"What's the matter honey?"

"Don't like the looks of those boys."  
"Ah, don't you worry any, I got my trusty .38 loaded and ready under the bar if I ever needed it, and besides I need to sell some beer. If that big boy would just drink his weight in beer I could retire."

Her joke put him at ease a little and he finished his beer with one long pull.

"All right then, I'll buy another one to help you get a little closer to retiring. How's that?"

"Mighty fine sir."

She filled his mug and topped hers off, they clinked glasses and took swigs, when seemingly out of nowhere the big guy from the pool table was standing right beside them. Clarence couldn't figure out how someone as big as this could so quietly appear, but here he was, as big as a bull. He had a strange acidy odor about him that made Clarence want to recoil, but he just quietly tended to his beer and lit a cigarette.

"Pool tables all fucked up lady. The cue ball keeps getting hung up."

"Hm. That's never happened before. Let me find the key and I'll have a look."

As Sharon started digging around in a drawer for the key Clarence watched the big guy with his peripherals. The hair stood up on the back of his neck as the big guys' eyes darted between the cash register and Sharon's ass. Something didn't feel right; there was an odd friction in the air, like ozone before a thunderstorm.

"Ha! I found it!"

Sharon happily held the key up for all to see

"I'll see if I can fix it for you honey."

As Sharon walked out from behind the bar and toward the direction of the pool tables the big guy turned slightly to watch her backside as she walked away. Clarence couldn't see the other guy anywhere.

"Hey buddy where'd your friend get off to?"

"Shut the fuck up old timer."

Clarence reached up and clutched the big guys elbow.

"Whatever your planning son, please don't."

The words barely leaked from his lips when the big guy wrapped his massive hand around the back of Clarence's skinny neck and bounced his head off the bar. His skull made a sickening, cracking sound before Clarence fell backwards and landed flat on his back. The noise caught Sharon's attention and she turned to see what it was, and when she did the little guy stepped from the shadows, wielding a pool stick like a baseball bat he swung at Sharon's head, the stick shattered when it made contact with her skull and she fell dazed to her knees. The little guy picked her up and threw her on the pool table, ripping open her denim blouse in the process. Sharon regained some of her senses and started to scream and fight back, scratching at her assailants' eyes with her fingernails.

"Shut up bitch! Your gonna enjoy this."

Blood was filling Clarence's mouth and nose and he was struggling not to choke. It took all his strength to roll over and try to suck in oxygen. He wiped the blood from his eyes and almost blacked out when he heard Sharon scream. He knew he had to stand up. He had to do something.

The big guy was emptying the cash register when he heard a gurgling sound behind him. Turning, he saw Clarence covered in blood and stumbling toward him with an empty beer mug raised over his head like a sword.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me old man."

The big guy smirked and threw a huge roundhouse punch that caught Clarence square on the ear and sent him sprawling, the beer mug shattering as he hit the floor unconscious. The big guy shrugged, looked down at Clarence's still body and briefly wondered if he had killed him.

"Oh well, we gotta kill them anyway."

Turning he watched his friend struggling to pull Sharon's jeans off, she was fighting tooth and nail.

"You need some help over there? Looks like she's kicking your ass."

The question distracted the little guy long enough for Sharon to grab a pool ball off the table and swing it as hard as she could into the little guy's head. It dazed him enough for her to push him away and run, but he recovered too quickly and knocked her legs out from under her with a sweeping kick, as she landed face down on the floor he pounced on her and started raining brutal punches into the back her neck until she was still, he picked her up bent her over the pool table, and started working her jeans down.

The big guy seeing that his friend had it under control went back to emptying the cash register. He couldn't believe his eyes when he turned around and saw Clarence standing, weaving, but standing.

"Ain't got time to fuck with you anymore old man."

The big guy started to advance but somehow Clarence moved so fast the big guy didn't know what hit him. He felt a sharp pain on the left side of his neck. He felt lifeblood soaking into his shoulder and chest. He felt with his hand the jagged broken off handle of a beer mug that was protruding from the flesh just to the side of his Adam's apple. He felt his knees bounce hard against the floor. He felt confusion. He felt nothing.

Wiping the blood from his eyes, Clarence saw Sharon being raped on the pool table. He felt under the bar until he found Sharon's .38 in a black, vinyl holster, after removing the little revolver he checked the cylinder to make sure it was loaded. It was. Time momentarily stood still as Clarence again wiped the blood from his eyes and took aim. He gently squeezed the trigger and watched as the back of the bad man's head exploded. The little guy immediately crumpled to the floor. No dramatic last gestures, just death and silence. Clarence turned and shot the big guy through the heart for good measure and then collapsed, the last thing he saw was blood.

……………………………………………………………………………………….

Clarence came to in a strange room. It was cold and all shades of white. A few moments ticked by before he could shake loose the spider webs and realize he was lying in a hospital bed. He wondered why he wasn't in pain. This made him smile. It had been a long time since he had been without pain. With the smile still on his face he drifted to peaceful sleep.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

When Clarence awoke again Sharon was sitting beside his bed in a wheelchair, she was holding his hand and had fallen asleep with her head on the edge of his bed. She must have sensed him and awoke with tears in her eyes.

"Oh Clarence, I had a terrible dream that you would never wake up!"

"Had to wake up, I have to finish my story."

"What story is that?"

"The story of my daddy's accident. I never finished telling you."

"You better save your strength. You can tell me some other time."

Clarence tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sigh.

"At my age there may not be some other time, and besides I have to tell you."

"All right Clarence, whatever you need. I'm listening."

"First off, daddy didn't have no accident. I killed him."

"You what?"

"You heard right. I said I killed him. It was back in 55 and I was barely twenty years old, just a pup really. It was a Friday night and me and my sweetheart Shelley Ann Green had been down at the river. I was gonna ask her to marry me. I had the ring in my pocket and was just waiting for the perfect time, but that time never seemed to come. We did make love though. We spread out a blanket on the riverbank and laid there watching the stars. Somehow I found the nerve to kiss her, and we ended up making love. It was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. I ain't never touched another women, before or since. She was the only one."

Clarence paused to fight back the tears, but Sharon had enough for both of them. Looking at the aching, heartbreak etched into the lines of his face she thought she might never stop crying. Cry until she dried up and withered away like a daisy in the dessert.

"Shelley Ann's daddy was strict so I had to get her home before dark and I never did get to pop the question. I thought I could just do it the next day, when your young you always think there's a next day. Anyways, I dropped her off and went on home, I felt like I was floating, like I was the first man to ever walk on the moon. I dropped Shelley Ann off and went on home, as soon as I pulled in the drive I could hear momma screaming. I jumped out of the truck and ran in the house. I see daddy has mamma cornered and is standing over her beating her with a strand of barbwire. She was bloody from head to toe and he's screaming at her in German like he's still in the war. I remember clear as a bell. His eyes were black. It was like something evil crawled up into his brain, but it wasn't the devil or nothing, it was patterns…cycles. The sins of the father become the sins of the son. He don't even notice me standing there, he just keeps swinging that barbed wire and screaming in German. Momma is screaming at me to run, go get help, get the sheriff. So I run out the door and jump back in my truck, but I can hear momma scream every time he swings that barbed wire. I couldn't just leave her there, he might kill her. I knew daddy always kept a loaded pistol in the glove box of his pick-up. It was just in case he ever needed it when he was out honkey tonkin or gambling, so I get the pistol and run back into the house. This time daddy notices me. He quits swinging the barbed wire and gets quiet and stares me right in the eyes. I point the pistol and momma start yelling 'No! No! No! He's your father don't you do it,' but daddy looks so peaceful, like he'd been waiting for this all his life, and I didn't want to disappoint him, so I shot him through his left eye, he was dead before he hit the floor. He was still smiling. Momma starts screaming at me about how I killed the man she loved, and that she would pray everyday for the eternal damnation of my soul. She told the sheriff I went crazy and killed daddy for no reason. I never knew why she did that, but they gave me 50 years for it. I never saw Shelley Ann again; don't know how she ended up. I used to dream about us being married and having kids and whatnot but I hadn't had them dreams in a long time. They let me out of prison three years ago and I just been waiting around to die, but I will say this, I don't regret what I done, it was the only way to break the cycle, the sins of the father. I never had the chance to have any sons, so I broke the chain. It died with daddy."

They sat in silence as all the pain of these memories melted away. Sharon could see it was some sort of exorcism for him to tell these things.

"Clarence, I am so sorry for all the hurt you've endured."

"Don't be sorry girl, you're the only friend I got."

"You saved my life, you're a hero."

"Ha. I'm no hero, but I do think maybe me and God are even now. Maybe I get to go to heaven after all."

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

Clarence died three days later of complications from an injury to his skull.

Sharon is now a proud grandma to Mathew Clarence Anderson.

Someday she will tell him about the man who saved her life.


End file.
